


Sunshine and Oranges

by ariel2me



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-13
Updated: 2013-12-17
Packaged: 2018-01-04 12:40:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1081123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariel2me/pseuds/ariel2me
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The princess might even have considered Willas Tyrell, crippled leg and all, but her father refused to send her to Highgarden to meet him. She tried to go despite him, with Tyene’s help... but Prince Oberyn caught them at Vaith and brought them back. (A Feast for Crows)</p><p>AU where Arianne Martell succeeded in making her way to Highgarden to meet Willas Tyrell.</p><p>Chapter 2: Best-Laid Plans</p><p>Arianne’s plan backfired, Garlan relayed Mace Tyrell’s answer to Doran Martell’s condition, Arianne received a letter from Willas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Defiance

Her father had steadfastly refused to allow Arianne to accept Lord Tully’s invitation to come to Riverrun to meet his heir. “Edmure Tully is a foolish and callow young man,” Doran Martell told his daughter. “There are songs and stories abound of him bedding whores and wenches. That is not a man suitable to be the consort to Princess of Dorne.”

Arianne had complied, all the while protesting vehemently in her mind. She had bedded many men herself. Not whores and wenches, certainly, but she knew she was notorious for her conduct as well. If Hoster Tully did not mind, why should her father minded about Edmure Tully’s notoriety?

When it was Mace Tyrell’s turn to extend his invitation, once again, her father refused to let her go. Willas Tyrell was not notorious for bedding whores and wenches; there was no scurrilous rumor about him at all. Doran Martell had a different excuse this time. “Willas Tyrell is crippled. Will he be able to father children? You will need an heir, Arianne.”

_Aren’t you already planning to steal my birthright to give to Quentyn, Father_? Arianne thought, but did not say to her father. The phrase in that letter was still burning brightly in her memory, never to be forgotten. _One day you will sit where I sit and rule all of Dorne, Quentyn._ Why should her father care whether or not she had an heir? And who’s to say Willas Tyrell would not be able to give her children? It was only his leg that was not working, not the vital part, Arianne thought.

She had obeyed when her father refused to let her go to Riverrun. This time she refused to submit, and made plans with her cousin Tyene to secretly make her way to Highgarden. If she was already there, and accepted the marriage proposal, it would be hard for her father to refuse later without angering the Tyrells.

More so because Willas was crippled after battling her uncle Oberyn during a tourney. There had been a lot of unpleasantness over that; Lord Tyrell was very unhappy. If the Tyrells suspected that Doran Martell had refused Willas for his daughter because of his crippled leg, there would be hell to pay. There had always been conflicts simmering beneath the surface between Dorne and the Reach, even before Dorne became part of the Seven Kingdoms. And Arianne knew that war and fighting was something her father would do anything to prevent. Look at how he reacted when his sister Elia and her two babes were cruelly murdered. Uncle Oberyn had wanted revenge, but her father had wanted only peace, and did nothing to avenge his sister. Arianne was only a girl at the time, but she did not miss the complaints and grumbles from lords and smallfolks alike. Weak, they whispered. Prince Doran was weak, unlike his late mother the Princess of Dorne, unlike his brother the Red Viper.

“What if you do not like him? What if he bores you?” Tyene asked as they were getting closer to Highgarden. “They say he only cares about animals, about breeding hawks, horses and hounds. And about scholarly studies. You have no interest in any of those things.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Arianne replied. “We won’t be spending that much time living together. He would have to stay at Highgarden as Lord of Highgarden, and I would have to stay at Dorne to rule Dorne. We will see each other from time to time, but not that often. What’s important is this - if I am the Lady of Highgarden, my father would not be able to set me aside so easily for Quentyn. The Tyrells would take that as an insult to their honor.”

But Arianne was suddenly curious about Willas Tyrell the man. She had been thinking of him mostly as a weapon for her to outwit her father, but the closer they were to Highgaden, the more she wondered about the man himself.

“What else have you heard about him?” She asked Tyene.

“My father would have been able to tell you more. He and Willas write to each other from time to time,” Tyene replied.

Arianne was surprised. “Does he not resent and blame Uncle Oberyn for his injury?”

“Not according to Father. Willas knew he was unprepared to fight in that tourney, and that he was too young and green to fight a seasoned warrior like Oberyn Martell.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this before? I could have grilled Uncle Oberyn about what sort of man Willas Tyrell is,” Arianne grumbled.

“And incur Father’s suspicion about our plan, which he will be sure to relay to Prince Doran? I think not,” Tyene said firmly.

“But … my uncle loves me,” Arianne said, unsure of the ground she stood on suddenly.

 “Yes, he loves you, as much as he loves his own daughters. But he would choose loyalty to his brother over his love for any of us. My father will always defer to Prince Doran’s judgment and decision in the end,” Tyene warned.

Arianne started to disagree. Her uncle seemed the stronger one, not just physically, but stronger-willed too, compared to her father. “It is not a question of strength,” Tyene said mysteriously, and then refused to explain further.

______________________________________________________________________________

“So she is coming after all!” Mace Tyrell announced loudly and enthusiastically to his family at the dinner table.

“Who, my dear?” His wife asked.

“Arianne Martell. Princess Arianne of Dorne,” Lord Tyrell replied.

“But not yet the Princess of Dorne,” Olenna Redwyne interjected sharply. There was something very pointed in his grandmother’s tone that Willas could not decipher. They exchanged glances, Willas and Olenna, but Willas was still none the wiser.

“We must prepare. A feast, to welcome them,” Father announced. “Willas, you must start planning. Places to take her, things to do together. We must show Princess Arianne the best of Highgarden. The very best.”

Willas said nothing. He was not looking forward to this visit at all. He had been convinced that Prince Doran would refuse Father’s invitation on his daughter’s behalf. Doran Martell did not seem like the type of man that could be blackmailed. And yet …

“Don’t be so obvious, dear,” Grandmother said. “They might think you are desperate to sell your son to the highest bidder. Much better for Alerie and Margaery to be the one to show her around.”

“Oh Mother, you do say the strangest things sometimes,” Willas’ father replied, smiling indulgently. Mace Tyrell never seemed to mind his mother’s pointed and sometimes cruel barbs directed at him. _He must be used to it by now_ , Willas thought.

“Who will be the princess’ escorts?” Garlan asked. “Prince Doran has not left Dorne in years, they say.”

“The mother ran away, went back to Norvos where she came from, I hear,” Grandmother replied, calmly cutting her meat into neat little squares. “Who could blame the woman, married to a man so indolent he made your late grandfather look _positively_ energetic.”

Alerie made disapproving noises, albeit ever so gently. “I’m sure Prince Doran’s wife didn’t _run away_ , Mother. There is nothing wrong with visiting your hometown. She must have missed her family greatly.”

Olenna scoffed. “Who visits their hometown and stays for years and years?”

“Perhaps Prince Oberyn will be her escort,” Willas spoke for the first time. “Princess Arianne is close to her uncle and his daughters, I hear.”

The silence that greeted this pronouncement was deafening. Father was trying to hide his irritation, but failed miserably. Mother looked sad. Willas almost regretted opening his mouth at all.

Almost.

Grandmother was the one who plowed ahead, unsurprisingly. “Oh I don’t think so. Doran Martell knows his brother is not welcomed at Highgarden. Whatever else the man is, he is not stupid. Far from it.”

Oberyn Martell was not welcomed at Highgarden, but his niece was. Indeed, she was so very much welcomed they were going to make her the Lady of Highgarden. It was at the tip of Willas’ tongue to say this out loud, but Margaery squeezed his hand gently but firmly under the table and gave a slight shake of her head. Willas sighed and kept his mouth shut this time.

“You do not dislike Oberyn Martell the way Father does, or bear him any grudge at all. Then why are you so against this marriage?” Margaery asked him later.

“It’s blackmail, pure and simple,” Willas replied, his voice bitter and angry. “ _Look what your brother did to my heir. He’s now crippled and no woman would have him, so give us your daughter to pay for your brother’s sin_.”

“That’s not what Father wrote in the letter to Prince Doran. It was merely an invitation for Princess Arianne to –“

“Oh I’m sure Prince Doran understands the implied message perfectly. Why else would he agree to his daughter coming to Highgarden to meet me? He turned down Lord Tully’s invitation for Princess Arianne to go to Riverrun to meet Edmure Tully. Who in their right mind would turn down a perfectly healthy young heir like Edmure Tully in favor of someone like me? Unless they have to.”

“You are worth a thousand Edmure Tullys of the world,” Margaery said adamantly.

“In your eyes perhaps, sweet Margaery. But not in the eyes of the world.”

And perhaps not even in his own father’s eyes, Willas suspected.

“Father would expect you to charm her,” Margaery said playfully, deftly changing the subject.

Willas scoffed. “If charm is what she wants, Garlan or Loras would be a better bet.”

“Perhaps _she_ will charm you instead,” Margaery said.

“Not likely,” Willas replied with confidence. No woman had ever charmed him except his sweet sister.

Arianne Martell arrived with only one escort. “My cousin Tyene,” she introduced the young woman standing next to her. _Cousin_. She must be one of the Sand Snakes, Prince Oberyn’s notorious bastard daughters. But this one looked as innocent as a pious septa. Except for the glint in her eyes, which reminded Willas of Prince Oberyn himself.

Princess Arianne herself turned out to be much shorter than Willas thought. She was certainly beautiful, that much could not be denied. Her eyes were dark and large, and those eyes laughed along when she laughed. Willas noticed his father and even Garlan watching her appreciatively.

He wondered why she had come accompanied only by her cousin. It seemed strange to him. But no one else asked that question or even seemed perturbed by it at all. Willas’ mother was asking Arianne about the journey and hoping it was not too hard on her, and his father was asking about Prince Doran and Dorne. Grandmother would have asked, Willas thought. But Father had sent Grandmother away to the Arbor under the pretense of solving a marital dispute between Aunt Mina and her husband Lord Redwyne. Grandmother had not been fooled for a second, yet she still went. But not before warning Willas to be careful. Very careful.

Arianne Martell didn’t _seem_ dangerous, Willas thought. He was more wary of her cousin.

_________________________________________________________________________________

It had gone more smoothly than Arianne thought possible. She had been worried that Lord Tyrell or his wife would ask about the scarcity of her escorts, but no one asked why she was only accompanied by her cousin. And _she_ was not there at all, the grandmother, the Queen of Thorns as she was widely known. That was a great relief to Arianne, after all she had heard about the meddlesome old woman.

On the other hand, she could not help noticing Willas’ cold reception. He was behaving correctly and courteously enough, but she had not made a connection with him, Arianne knew. Making a connection with men had always come easily to her, so his resistance puzzled her. And it angered her to some degree as well. Not just because he was upsetting her plan, but also because she took it personally, his rejection of her. Why _should_ he be so resistant to her ample charms? She was beautiful, she was an heiress, and she brought a lot of things to the match that someone like him could not afford to scoff at or throw away without even a glance.

But Arianne knew she had to bury her pride and her anger, for now, at least. Her plan to outwit her father was more important than her wounded pride. Her future rested on it, her birthright.

Seduction had not worked, so she had to come up with another way. The Reach was the center of chivalry in the Seven Kingdoms, perhaps an appeal to his chivalric nature would be better? She decided to confide to Willas about her father, and how the Prince of Dorne would prefer his son Quentyn to rule Dorne after him, not Arianne the eldest daughter as was the law.

Willas looked shocked. “Surely not because you are a woman? I would not have thought that possible of Prince Doran. And Dorne is used to being ruled by a woman. Your grandmother was the Princess of Dorne, wasn’t she?”

“No, I do not think it is because I’m a woman, but I don’t know the real reason. I don’t know what I have done to incur my father’s wrath,” Arianne replied mournfully. Her sorrow was real enough. This was the advantage of choosing this route. She did not have to pretend too much or to display emotions she wasn’t already feeling in the first place.

“Perhaps you are mistaken,” Willas said. “There are always rumors, words being whispered and floated. Not all of them are true.”

“I am not mistaken,” Arianne replied, looking down as if to hide her tears. She told him about the letter. Her father’s letter to Quentyn. Her voice broke as she recited the content of that letter. “Why does my father hate me so?” She asked him plaintively. “What did I do wrong?”

Willas stared at her awkwardly. He seemed at a complete loss about what to say, or do. His hand hovered over her back as if to pat her, but then he abruptly changed his mind and let his hand down instead.

“There are those who think my brother Garlan would make a better Lord of Highgarden,” he blurted out, and then seemed to regret it. He avoided her gaze and shifted in his seat, further away from her.

Arianne saw her chance. She took his hand and squeezed it gently. “Your father as well?”

“I … I don’t know. Or perhaps, I do not want to know. It’s silly of me,” he said, laughing bitterly. “I love my brother dearly. Garlan would make an excellent lord, I know. Even better than I ever could, in my condition. And yet –“

“It hurts all the same,” Arianne said. “To be rejected.”

Willas nodded. “It shouldn’t, not for me at least. But it still does. Is that unreasonable?” He asked her.

“Not at all,” Arianne replied, still holding his hand. “I know exactly how that feels.”

She had made a connection, finally.

_______________________________________________________________________________

“I lost them,” Oberyn Martell was telling his brother. “They must have made their way to Highgarden after all. If it were up to me, I would make my way there as well and drag them both home, but I thought you might disapprove of that.”

“You did right,” Doran replied. “Mace Tyrell would not have welcomed your presence at Highgarden.”

“Strange,” Oberyn said, “how Mace Tyrells seems so eager to make Arianne part of his family. Since he seems to hate me so.”

Not strange at all, Doran thought. It was payment, payment for Oberyn’s sin of crippling Mace’s heir, like Quentyn was payment to House Yronwood for Oberyn’s sin of killing Lord Ormond Yronwood. But Doran did not say this to his brother. He did not wish to add to Oberyn’s burden and guilt.

“Mace Tyrell believes that Arianne will be Princess of Dorne someday. He wishes to have influence and to hold sway over her,” Doran told his brother instead. “There is no end to MaceTyrell’s ambition.”

“We must stop the betrothal,” Oberyn said. “Our plan …”

“I will write to Arianne at Highgarden. Her dear uncle is gravely ill, and she and Tyene are to return to Dorne immediately. The Tyrells could have no quarrel with that,” Doran resolved.

“Why not you, brother? That would be a greater imperative for Arianne to come home, if you were the one who was ill.”

“No, we must not give Mace Tyrell any reason to suspect how ill and weak I am,” Doran replied.

“You are not weak,” Oberyn said.

Doran smiled. “You are the only one who believes that, Oberyn.”

“Because no one else knows you the way I do,” Oberyn replied.

______________________________________________________________________________

Arianne wondered why her father’s letter stated that she and Tyene were to go straight to the Water Gardens, and not Sunspear. What was her uncle doing at the Water Gardens? That was her father’s favorite place; Oberyn only ever went there when summoned by his brother.

They were met by Prince Doran’s captain of the guards on arrival. Tyene was to go immediately to her father’s room. Prince Oberyn would like to see her first, Areo Hotah told them. Tyene started protesting, why couldn’t they both go? Arianne shushed her - it was right for her uncle to see his daughter first. “I will see him later,” she said, fighting back tears. How could her strong and powerful uncle be gravely ill? She could not imagine her uncle in bed, weak and ill.

She peppered Hotah with questions. What was wrong with her uncle? What kind of illness? Or was he poisoned? She knew her uncle had plenty of enemies. What did the maester say?

“Your father will explain all, my princess,” was Hotah’s only reply. She followed him to the pools, where Doran Martell was sitting under the shade of the blood orange trees, watching the children frolicking in the water. The blood oranges were ripe this time of the year. They looked just as juicy as the peaches at Highgarden. She would write to Willas about that, perhaps send him a crate of blood oranges. He must not be allowed to forget about her.

 If her uncle were to die, she would lose a champion. There would be no one left to at least argue on her behalf, if not fight, when the time came for her father to give away her birthright to Quentyn. She would need Willas and Highgarden all the more then.

_What am I doing? How could I be thinking of that while my uncle lay dying?_ She thought, ashamed.

But Oberyn was the one who taught Arianne to always be ready, to plan ahead, to be strong and never to give up.

Her father looked angry, frowning at the sight of her. Arianne had almost forgotten that she had disobeyed her father and slipped away to Highgarden. But surely her father could not be thinking of that when his brother was on his deathbed?

“What am I to do with you, Arianne?”

She ignored the question, instead peppering her father with her own questions about Oberyn’s condition.

“Your uncle is not ill,” Doran said tersely.

“But your letter –“

She stopped. She saw it now. It was a trick, to get her to come back to Dorne. “Does my uncle know how you used him to deceive me?”

Her father said nothing, which told Arianne all she needed to know. Tyene had been right after all, at the end of the day, Oberyn Martell would always choose his brother over everyone else. She would need Willas and Highgarden more than ever to safeguard her inheritance; she could not count on even her beloved uncle to do that for her.

“It is done,” she told her father, her voice proud and defiant. “We have agreed to the betrothal. You cannot undo it now without incurring the displeasure of the Tyrells. They would be insulted, rightly so. It might even come to war.”

“Why, Arianne? Why would you go to this length for a man you have never met before? You cannot love Willas Tyrell, surely.”

“I need him,” she replied simply. It was time to let her father know how he had been outwitted by the daughter he planned to disinherit.

“You need him? For what?”

“So you wouldn’t be able to steal my birthright to give to Quentyn. The betrothal is between Willas Tyrell and the heiress to Sunspear. Lord Tyrell expects his son to be the consort to the Princess of Dorne, not a husband to a woman who is set aside for her younger brother. Highgarden would not allow you to disinherit me in favor of Quentyn so easily, Father. Your plan cannot come to fruition now.”

“You are wrong, Arianne,” her father said despairingly. “I have never planned to steal your birthright.”

“Liar!” Arianne exclaimed. “I saw it with my own eyes. The letter you wrote to Quentyn. _One day you will sit where I sit, and rule all of Dorne_ , you wrote to him.”

Her father closed his eyes, and let out a long sigh. “You are meant for a greater purpose, Arianne.”

“A greater purpose?” Arianne snickered. “To warm the bed of senile old men like Lord Frey or Lord Estermont, you mean? To chase me away from your precious kingdom to be trapped inside their cold, cold castle? Why do you hate me so, Father? What have I ever done to deserve your hate?” To her regret, she was near tears. No tears, she willed herself. _I will not show him my weakness._

Her father was the one with tears glistening in his eyes. “Hate you? I do not hate you, Arianne. How could I? You are my daughter. You used to play in these pools and run crying to me when you fell and skinned your knees. I love you. I have always loved you.”

It had been a long time since Arianne ever came running to her father for anything. She had been so convinced that he hated her, she had buried her own love for him deep, deep down, where she was sure not to find it.

She could not stop the tears now. “Then why?” She asked her father amidst her tears. “Why do you want Quentyn to rule Dorne and not me?”

“It is not a question of wanting. It is a question of necessity. You are promised, Arianne. Promised and betrothed ever since you were a child running around in these pools.”

She was stunned. “Promised?”

Her father’s explanation dazed her even further. A secret betrothal unknown to both Arianne and Viserys Targaryen. Vengeance. Vengeance for her aunt Elia and her children. Fire and blood.

Queen. She would be queen of the Seven Kingdoms, if the plan succeeded.

He should have told her earlier, she railed at her father, but her heart was not in it. She had misjudged her father all these years. Had trained herself not to love him, hardened her heart to him, all for a misunderstanding that could have been avoided. If only she had confronted him when she read the letter …

“What should we do now?” Arianne said desperately. “The Tyrells –

“They must never know about your betrothal to Viserys. If they know, Robert Baratheon would know, and we would be put to the sword for treason. But to break your agreement with the Tyrells so soon after you agreed to it, that would cause suspicions as well. And incur their wrath and displeasure, as you told me.”

“Forgive me, Father,” Arianne said, feeling contrite. “I have made things more difficult.”

Her father took her hand. “The important thing now is how to proceed. We must think carefully. So much is at stake.”

Snippets of her conversation with Willas floated into Arianne’s mind. Inspiration struck. “I think I know a way,” she said excitedly. “A way to make the Tyrells themselves change their mind and refuse the match.”

“How?” Her father asked.

“If you make it a condition that Willas Tyrell must be Lord of Highgarden after his father. Tell them that the Princess of Dorne must be wed to a lord, not merely the brother of a lord.”

Her father frowned, his expression confused. “But Willas Tyrell is already the heir to Highgarden. How would that condition –“

Arianne interrupted. “His position is not as secure as all that. There are some in Highgarden who want his brother Ser Garlan to inherit.”

“Because of his leg?”

Arianne nodded. “I suspect that is the real reason Mace Tyrell is so enthusiastic about Willas marrying me. He does not want it to look like he is cruelly setting aside his crippled eldest son in favor of a younger brother. But if Willas is marrying the future Princess of Dorne, then Lord Tyrell could let it be known that Willas has a duty to stay in Dorne as my prince consort, and he could make Ser Garlan his heir with a clear conscience.”

“But if we make it a condition that Willas must inherit Highgarden, Mace Tyrell might rethink the suitability of the match,” her father said.

Arianne nodded.

“I will write to Mace Tyrell immediately.”

_Let it work_ , Arianne prayed, squeezing her father’s hand as he kissed her brow.

 


	2. Best-Laid Plans

The reply from Mace Tyrell came not by ravens or words written on a parchment, but delivered to Sunspear by his own son. Ser Garlan the Gallant, as he was known, Mace Tyrell’s second son, and the one Arianne had convinced her father the son Mace Tyrell would prefer to inherit Highgarden in place of the crippled Willas. Garlan Tyrell came accompanied by Paxter Redwyne his uncle by marriage, bearing gifts from the Reach, as well as his father’s answer to Doran’s condition.

Arianne feared her plan had come to naught when she saw the endless crates and boxes overflowing with gifts brought in by the knights and guards accompanying Garlan Tyrell. Roses and flowers of all colors and shapes, peaches, melons and fireplums, silks and laces, jewelries. The riches and bounties of Highgarden and the Reach on full display in the throne room at Sunspear. If Mace Tyrell’s answer to her father’s condition had been a resounding ‘No’, then the marriage plan was null and void and there would be no need for Garlan Tyrell to come to Sunspear bearing gifts.

But how? Arianne was very perplexed. Willas had been so convinced that his father meant to disinherit him in favor of Garlan.

_Perhaps he had unjustly misunderstood his father’s intention, as I had done with my own father._

Garlan Tyrell’s words confirmed what Arianne had feared. “My lord father sends his fondest regards to the Prince of Dorne, and his lovely daughter Princess Arianne.” Oberyn was sitting to the left of Doran, with Arianne sitting on Doran’s right, but Garlan Tyrell’s greetings on his father’s behalf did not include Oberyn. Garlan continued, “My father has received your letter, Prince Doran, and he has no quarrel with the matter you set forth in the letter.”

“No quarrel? What does that mean, exactly?” Oberyn asked with one raised eyebrow. “Merely that he does not resent the condition set forth in the letter? Or would he actually comply with it?”

Paxter Redwyne cleared his throat. “Well … there is really no question of complying or not complying. Willas _is_ the heir to Highgarden, that is an indisputable fact. Lord Tyrell took Prince Doran’s mention of the issue of succession in Highgarden merely as an effort to confirm that fact, not as setting forth any condition or requirement to the marriage between Princess Arianne and Willas.” He paused, looking at Doran meaningfully. “Is that not right, Prince Doran?”

Oberyn turned red and started to speak, but Doran gave him a sharp glance before looking at Paxter Redwyne meekly. “Yes, of course, you are right, Lord Redwyne. I only wish to protect my dearest daughter, as any father would.”

Before, Arianne would have cursed what she perceived as her father’s weakness, but now she knew better. Her father was playing a longer game than anyone else.

“Then you can be sure that Princess Arianne will be the Lady of Highgarden when my brother Willas becomes Lord of Highgarden,” Garlan said. “And Willas of course will be the prince consort to the Princess of Dorne when the time comes?”

Garlan had phrased his last sentence as a question, and almost as a challenge. Surely … surely Willas had not confided to his brother what Arianne had confided to him about her fears of her father disinheriting her? Oh but she had been a fool! She had thought to make use of him, but perhaps Willas had turned the table and was making use of her. She had not disliked him, in fact had found him companionable if a tad dull, but she must have missed his more devious side.

On the other hand, this new Willas sounded a lot more fascinating and interesting to Arianne. She wondered how dangerous he truly was, what length he would go to -

Her father was speaking. She banished the thought of Willas Tyrell from her mind. _No, I am promised. I am to marry Viserys Targaryen and be queen of the realm._ She must concentrate on how to get out of the betrothal with Willas.

“Arianne is my eldest child, and therefore my heir and the future Princess of Dorne, as our Dornish law demands. That is also an indisputable fact,” Doran replied, his expression still meek and mild, but there was a sharpness underneath his pleasant tone of voice that was not lost on Arianne, and on Garlan too, she suspected.

“Then we are all in agreement,” Paxter Redwyne said, smiling for the first time since he entered the throne room. “The betrothal and the wedding could continue as was previously agreed.”

Except her father had not actually agreed to anything. It was Arianne who had misled the Tyrells into believing that she had her father’s blessing to discuss a betrothal during her ill-considered visit to Highgarden. Would her father mention that to Ser Garlan and Lord Redwyne now, as a final attempt to dispose of this betrothal?

He couldn’t, Arianne realized. She had actually succeeded in tying her father’s hands, even if the success brought nothing but sorrow for her, now that she knew the truth. For him to admit that Arianne had gone to Highgarden _despite_ his wishes would be to admit a great weakness to the Tyrells, something the Prince of Dorne could not afford at the moment. And yet to reject Willas Tyrell for his daughter, after Arianne herself had been to Highgarden, would be a dangerous move as well, with the risk of incurring not only the wrath of Highgarden, but also suspicions. Arianne turned to her father with a look full of remorse on her face, but he shook his head slightly, smiled exaggeratedly as if reminding Arianne to smile too. Garlan Tyrell was watching her closely. Arianne turned her eyes to him and gave him her sunniest and most enchanting smile.

“We thank Ser Garlan and Lord Redwyne for making the journey to Sunspear, and for the generous gifts they have brought with them. I will of course go over other details of the betrothal and the marriage with Lord Tyrell himself in a letter,” her father said, in an effort to stall and buy time, Arianne thought.

Paxter Redwyne looked dissatisfied. “Is there anything else to discuss, Prince Doran? I thought it would be only the simple matter of setting the date of the wedding.”

“There are other considerations, of course,” Doran replied. “Where they would live, for one. And then there is the question of the children, and inheritance. If Arianne gives birth to a girl as an eldest child, then the matter is settled, that child will be the heir to Sunspear, as is our law, and the eldest boy will be the heir to Highgarden, as is your law. But what if their eldest child is a boy? Which seat would he inherit, Sunspear or Highgarden? Dornish law calls for the eldest child to inherit, regardless of its sex, and your law calls for the eldest son to inherit. ”

“Both, of course. The boy would rule over both Dorne and the Reach one day,” Lord Redwyne said. “I do not think that will present us with any difficulty at all.”

Doran smiled. “Oh I do not think it is as simple as you make it out to be, Lord Redwyne. This is something I would have to discuss with Lord Tyrell himself.”

“Set out the terms you would like to come to agreement to, Prince Doran, and I will relay them personally to Lord Tyrell,” Lord Redwyne said. He seemed determined to leave Sunspear with a binding agreement on the betrothal.

Doran glanced at Garlan Tyrell, who had been silent since his uncle took over the negotiation. “Perhaps Ser Garlan would like to explore Sunspear while he is here. Arianne will accompany him, while we old people discuss the details.”

It was a command, not a suggestion, and neither Arianne nor Garlan dared to defy it.Lord Redwyne looked uneasy, but he, too, acquiesced without a word.

“I have a letter from my brother for you, Princess Arianne,” Garlan said as soon as he and Arianne were out of the throne room.

Arianne failed to hide the look of astonishment on her face. “A letter? From your brother Willas?”

“Well, I do have another brother, but you have never met Loras, so it could hardly be from him. Although I am sure Loras would be equally charmed by you, my princess, had he met you.”

Arianne smiled despite herself. No wonder he was called Garlan the Gallant. “I did not think Willas was charmed at all. He seemed indifferent to all of my advantages,” she said.

“I can assure you that he is,” Garlan said firmly. “Willas is perhaps not the most demonstrative of men, but I know my brother better than most.”

Arianne saw an opening to ask the question that had baffled her. “Why did you ask for confirmation regarding my inheritance, Ser Garlan? Is that something your brother asked you to do?”

Garlan looked mystified. “Willas? No, not at all.” He seemed uncomfortable, and hesitated before replying to her question. “It was … my grandmother, in truth. She thought since your father was asking confirmation regarding Willas’ inheritance, it is right for us to ask about your inheritance as well. She does not mean any insult by it, only to ensure that there is no misunderstanding on either side.”

So Willas had not betrayed her whispered confidences after all.

“Quite right,” Arianne said soothingly to the still uncomfortable Garlan. “Lady Olenna sounds very wise indeed.”

“Yes, she is. Very much so,” Garlan replied eagerly.

If anything, the Lady Olenna and her “ _wisdom_ ” was one more reason Arianne was determined to get out of this betrothal with Willas Tyrell. She wondered how her father and her uncle were coming along.

“As a last resort, you could sorrowfully confide to the Tyrells your disappointment in me,”Arianne had told her father before Garlan Tyrell’s arrival. “And how I would make a most unsuitable Lady of Highgarden.”

Her father looked disapproving. “I could never speak ill of my own child, certainly not to the Tyrells!”

“But Father –“

“We will find another way, Arianne. But you are not to write to Willas to tell him anything to your disadvantage, or confide to Garlan Tyrell your past misdeeds. It might not even succeed in getting you out of this betrothal, and it could be used against you later, which would be very, very unfortunate,” her father had warned her vehemently.

Willas’ letter unsettled her greatly. It sounded entirely  earnest and sincere for one; she could not help feeling guilty and ashamed that she had made use of him so blatantly. “If our marriage could somehow safeguard the inheritance that should be yours by right, my princess, it would be an agreeable alliance in my eyes.” It was not a protestation of love, embarrassing or otherwise, but her heart and mind would have rested easier if he had written instead, “If our marriage could protect _both_ of our inheritance.”

 


End file.
